The Bite of the Werewolf
by Jadwiga
Summary: A howl tears through the crisp night air. The boy cowers in terror. The hunt is on. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K.Rowling. Only the plot and original characters are mine.

**Warnings:** Gen. Angst. HBP Spoilers

**Summary:** A howl tears through the crisp night air. The boy cowers in terror. The hunt is on.

_A/N:_ Part One reposted, with the formatting cleared so that it is easier to read. The actual content of the story remains the same!

**The Bite of the Werewolf – Part One**

John Lupin drew his cowl tighter around his head, repressing a shiver of fear at his surroundings. The path underfoot was overgrown, barely discernable by the naked eye – the human eye at any rate. Weeds crawled across, entwining with the steams of long dead flowers and uprooted trees. Stumbling the wizard glanced down, bile rising in his throat at the sight that met his eyes.

A fly covered carcass lay at his feet. Now he understood from where the annoying buzzing had been coming. The disturbed swarm rose into the air and he dashed up the tangled path, eager to be done with his mission.

The sun hovered in the western horizon reminding him of how little time he had. As he entered the canopy of trees the light turned meagre, mocking his unease at the dancing shadows. At last the faint yellow light singled out the ancient cottage with its twisted ivy walls, rotting door and stained windows. No one had lived here for centuries.

Carefully darting towards the entrance John sneaked a peek to his left and right. Nothing stirred. The wood was silent. Warily he toed the door open, sliding in to be confronted with complete darkness. A shuffling sound came from the back of the room, followed by a scraping noise which cautioned John to shield his face so that he wouldn't be blinded.

A match flared, illuminating the features of a handsome man, whose green eyes fixed an unwavering stare on his person. Evil glinted in the animal orbs.

Fenrir Greyback, the most savage werewolf alive, killing indiscriminately, savouring children the most, cultivating his child victims to be his army of terror, stood directly opposite him with a hungry grin playing over his features. Refusing to be cowed the Ministry wizard calmly lowered his leather case onto the table standing by his right elbow, carefully observing the actions of the werewolf opposite.

A wick burst into flame, the lantern casting enough light to see by. The tall, slim man sprawled in a rickety chair grinning at the representative. Nobody spoke for long moments. At last Fenrir broke the tense silence.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

His manner visibly showed that this meeting was anything but pleasurable. John stiffened slightly but gave no other outward sign of disgust or trepidation.

"The Ministry is willing to make a deal with the werewolves as long as you stop these ruthless killings and kidnapping of children."

A rumbling laugh echoed through the small room.

"Is this a joke?" snarled the man. "Why should I stop? Children are oh so tasty, even more so when biting them leaves the 'taint' in their blood as a punishment to their parents. Tell me oh! so wise wizard, why should we werewolves stop our fight for justice?"

A horrified gasp met such a declaration.

"You call these brutal attacks justice? How can such evil acts be anything near justice?"

Irritated at the condemnation the man leaned forward.

"Careful," he rasped, warning evident in his tone, "I do not like your distaste towards my person, nor the dismissive manner with which you treat the oppression of us werewolves. Why shouldn't we fight for freedom and fair treatment by society?"

"Freedom yes! Fair treatment certainly! But the manner…Discontinue your actions Fenrir Greyback otherwise the Ministry will deal with you harshly."

Long, golden hair was flung back, exposing a strong neck, muscles rippling as laughter spilt from the long column.

"Should I be afraid Mr. Ministry Official? Should I be trembling in my boots?" The cruel laughter stopped abruptly. The wintry gaze focused on him intently.

"What exactly is your deal?"

"Werewolves will be granted a few more rights-"

Fenrir interrupted.

"A few more rights? Is that all you can do? Let me remind you John Lupin – yes I know your name – that you need us more than we werewolves need you, so either the Ministry does as I say or there shall be no concession in these 'evil' acts of mine."

The moment Fenrir had finished his ultimatum John sprang to his feet, fury overcoming his better sense. Harsh words leapt from bitter lips, words he would regret to his dying day.

"No, Fenrir, there shall be no such agreement. We don't deal with scum like you, not on your dubious terms."

Wrath blazed in the luminescent orbs, and the rangy form slowly uncoiled from the seat, danger writ in every hard line. Into this tableau shone the dying rays of the sun, which shattered the gloom of the cottage.

A shaft of light fell on the advancing werewolf highlighting his eyes, which were _changing_. Their forest green was almost entirely consumed by the golden eyes of the werewolf. The long, flowing hair was more like a mane than it had been only minutes before. Hands were held stiffly, awkward in their movement.

John stumbled backwards, face drained of colour as he realised that the moon would be up in mere minutes.

Then into this rapid series of events something else became evident. It was if a noise, which previously had been unconsciously heard, had ceased. He could hear absolutely nothing apart from the pounding of his heart and the gentle growling of the beast.

An unnatural hush had fallen on the forest.

The wildlife knew what was about to descend.

Fenrir Greyback slowly approached the dismayed form of John Lupin.

"You will come to regret your words Lupin."

Lips pulled back to reveal lengthening canines, already dripping saliva.

"Now go before I ensure that you live up to your namesake John _Wolf_."

Seeing the contortions on the handsome face, features melting into new contours John Lupin fled for his life, heart in his mouth, as he comprehended the great danger he had placed his family in.

0-0-0-0

Wakeful, John Lupin titled his head to the side to view the beautiful rolling countryside framed by the bedroom window. For the first time in three months he felt at peace, during which the long dark days and weeks had been filled with the terror of anticipation; the fearful wait.

However, nothing had happened. Each full moon had passed uneventfully, the silver rays alighting on nothing more dangerous or unnerving than a fox. Fenrir Greyback had melted into the shadows to which his soulless being belonged. Therefore, John Lupin was quite content to consider their peril almost over if not entirely vanished.

To this end he had accepted a business invitation abroad, which would entail abandoning his wife and son alone for three days and nights. One of these nights overlapped the rising of the full moon.

John frowned as a tingle of unease made itself known, but he shook it off as an anxiousness concerning his upcoming meetings. Turning back to face his wife he smiled lovingly at the mass of blond curls spread as wings across the pillow. She was stunning and more than capable of looking after herself and their son.

_Not from werewolves, _whispered the nagging voice inside his head. _Muggles don't understand how to deal with the monsters of our world._

Irritated and upset by the voice Lupin swung out of bed, preparing for the day.

On his way out of the bedroom he slowed, pausing on the threshold, indecision warring within him. _You'll never forgive yourself if you allow any harm to come to them._

Hovering uncertainly for another minute John made his decision. Crossing the carpet to the bed he gently shook his wife's sleeping form.

"Dear," he called softly. "Mary, wake up. Mary."

"Hmmpft?" came the inarticulate response.

"Mary dear, please pay attention, this is important."

Bleary, sleep dusted eyes focused on his creased features.

"Darling, what on earth is the matter?"

"You remember what I told you about that werewolf?"

"The savage one who you upset?"

John winced. "The very same. Listen dear, listen closely because it could mean the difference between life and death."

Mary sat up, alert now at the urgent, serious words.

"I know I said that the danger has more than likely passed, but I still wish you to be careful. On the night of the full moon – my last day abroad – and the two nights either side – please do not go outside.

Do not permit Remus to wander far, ensure that he is home before the moon rises: before nightfall on the full moon, and tomorrow at four, even though it will be still daylight, the moon will be up before night closes in on the world. Do you promise me?"

Laying her right hand on his left she spoke firmly, "I promise."

Soothed by his wife's vow John Lupin left, the cheerful morning sunlight chasing away his troubles.

0-0-0-0

"Hurry up Remus!" shouted Mary Lupin at the foot of the staircase. "Jonathon will leave without you!"

Remus Lupin – only child of the Lupins – hastened his morning ritual, eager to see Jonathon again. He was a small boy of ten years of age, soft brown hair framing a delicate face set with hazel pools – an exotic blend of golds and browns.

Intelligence shone unwaveringly in the dancing orbs full of untarnished life. Happiness poured from every determined pore, ready for whatever life threw at him. He adored studying and learning new things, quiet only when he had a nose stuck into a book.

Great courage dwelt in his little heart, courage that he would need soon. All too soon into this innocent's child's short existence would fall a shadow – a shadow containing much sorrow and suffering.

Solitude and silence, introspection and wariness would become Remus Lupin's bywords. Whether his soul would survive this agony with any semblance of the ability to love would depend on his strength.

Yet for the moment, the long blissful moment, he was still innocent and impatient to go. Dashing down the stairs unheedful of his mother's exasperated cry he only came to a skidding halt when he drew level with the kitchen, darting to the table to quickly eat his breakfast.

Sitting in his favourite spot, which overlooked the colourful garden, Remus split his attention between his mother and admiring at the flower he loved most in the world.

"Jonathon will drop you off at school and pick you up from school understand dear? Do not leave without him. Are you listening son?"

Gazing serenely into his mother's questioning blue eyes Remus smiled.

"Of course mummy. I know daddy wants us home before it gets dark. I'll make sure not to go anywhere without Uncle Johnny."

A door opening and shutting signalled Jonathon's arrival even before his deep voice rang out.

"Hiya boyo! Still eating I see. Sis," a wet kiss was deposited, "nice to see you looking so well. Come on Remus! Lets vanish."

Giggling at his uncle's antics Remus jumped off the chair, dropping his bowl and plate into the sink, and hoisting his rucksack onto his shoulders on his way to the door. As Remus waited for his uncle to catch up, Jonathon met the worried eyes of his sister, petting his coat grimly.

Nestled under the folds of his long coat was an object of sleek black beauty. Silver lay hidden in its depths, shaped into a specific design symbolising defence. Muggles may not know how to arm themselves against the fiends of the magical world, but they had their myths and legends, enabling them to put forth a good effort.

In the garden Remus gazed at the splendour of his favourite flower, the lovely varying shades of violet swaying in the slight breeze – the Lupin, the flower of his namesake, from the Latin _lupinus_ meaning wolf. Why their pretty colours should today send a shiver of forbidding premonition down his spine ten year old Remus had no idea.

A heavy hand landing on his shoulder startled Remus out of his disturbing reverie, the ghosts fading into the air.

The walk was a pleasant one, the crisp morning air sending an invigorating shiver throughout the body. At one point they strolled down a country lane hemmed on either side by tall bushes, the branches long entwined into two parallel lines of hedge.

Beyond the dark greenery towered tall trees, reaching out to their sundered brethren across the loose stone road. The light here was dimmed, almost extinguished. Not many lingered on this stretch of country lane; Remus and Jonathon only took it due to no other choice, unless they wished to hazard the surrounding hills, wandering miles from their destination.

0-0-0-0

From behind the lush green foliage lurked a terrible creature, a creature born out of twisted magic, a stain on nature itself. This being defied nature's order and revelled in it. When the beast awoke nature howled in protest at the abomination of what _is_, instead of what there should have _been_.

Yet it is up to the choice of the individual whether this beast was given sway when it came forth, answering the beckoning of the white moon. This being had made his choice long ago. He allowed the beast reign even when in human form.

Forest green stared unblinkingly at the two hurrying figures, a sneer twisting his mouth. _A Muggle and a child? Is that all you send out to fight me? How foolish. Before the moon has fully risen he shall be **mine**._

The wolf is patient. The wolf is clever. The wolf is cunning. All these things are the werewolf with the very human lust for revenge.

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, only the original plot and characters are mine. No money is being made.

**Summary:** A howl tears through the crisp night air. The boy cowers in terror. The hunt is on.

_A/N:_ Sorry for the long delay between updates: life has been hetic lately! And here is the conclusion ladies and gentlemen.

**The Bite of the Werewolf – Part Two**

The afternoon drew on, the sun sailing across the blue sky to dip beyond the western horizon. The bluely haze changed subtly to a sheen of golds, oranges and pinks. Into this perfection came a more ominous note, converting the harmony to a sour tune.

Sensing this mutation the tall man bent down, clasping the top of his coat close to his neck. His footsteps were hurried, kicking up a slight dust on the loose stone path he travelled. Soon the sun would set and he had to collect Remus before that happened. Today the moon was destined to rise only minutes after the sun went to her rest.

Abruptly the scenery changed. Startled the man slowed, glancing around him in confusion. What was going on? In the distance a bird released a shrill cry, shattering the unusual hush. Jonathon drew back alarmed at what he saw. A mist was creeping over the landscape, crawling ever nearer his position, obscuring features as it passed.

Knowledge burst into his chest with the painful alacrity of a knife wound. This was no ordinary mist, no ordinary _fog_, for the white cloud was now very thick and floating in the atmosphere. This was meant to slow him down, delay him from reaching Remus. How he knew this Jonathon could not understand, but he did, and a panic settled into his soul.

Yet all he could do was come to almost a halt, as the fluffy sheet threw a pall over his vision. Jonathon was forced to edge forwards, peering into the undulating body as it surrounded him in a world of damp iciness. Time was everything, but haste was unattainable. Jonathon struggled onwards, his focus on the boy he promised his sister he would protect.

0-0-0-0

Remus anxiously gazed out of the window, searching with increasing desperation his uncle. There was still no sight of him. Remus paced the classroom nervously, brain awhirl with black scenarios.

His uncle should have been here over an hour ago, his mother was not responding to his telephone calls and the sun was rapidly sinking. The boy understood that he had to be home before the full moon ascended, but it seemed that if he waited for his errant uncle he would not be able to keep his promise.

The sun disappeared, the scarlet glow remaining for an eerie moment. Twilight descended. He could stay no longer. Decision reached Remus Lupin squared his shoulders, and clutching at his rucksack straps with white knuckles, he raced off into the glowing world, racing to reach home before evil caught him.

0-0-0-0

Fenrir Greyback stretched out his aching legs, positioning himself close to the shrubbery. His pack had dealt with the pesky Muggle so there was no reason to fear an interruption of plans from that quarter. Another pack member had contacted him only a minute ago to report on the boy's position. He was coming.

A hungry grin plastered on his face Fenrir Greyback crouched down, waiting for the transformation and his quarry.

0-0-0-0

The cotton clung to his arms and legs, pouring into his mouth and down his throat, suffocating him with its freezing embrace. Battling the effects Jonathon gave a particularly powerful surge of energy, darting forward into… into a clear environment. Gasping with relief Jonathon stumbled a few paces, bending over, hands on knees as he regained breath.

Then as he straightened his eyes registered the complete darkness, only broken by the stars and one other object. The full moon hung, pinned to the obsidian mantle of sky, its fatness radiating smugness.

A chill dread settled in his heart. How long had the moon been up? The twilight was entirely gone, but that could mean anything. Scared and determined Jonathon felt a new certainty enter his numbed mind.

Remus was no longer at the school. Remus would have gone directly when he realised that his uncle was not coming, trying to uphold his promise to his mother about being indoors ere the full moon rose in the firmament.

His nephew was now somewhere on the perilous path between here and home, between danger and safety.

Brushing off the remaining clinging strands Jonathon began to run. The uttermost need drove him causing Jonathon to run as if the Devil himself was snapping at his heels.

0-0-0-0

Remus Lupin breathed through his nose to try and keep his stamina up. In front was the lonely stretch of country lane he had to journey to reach the relative safety of his house. Trembling with fright and tiredness he approached warily, sick to his belly.

Entering the semi-tunnel of trees and hedges Remus winced as the light became almost nil. The only illumination now came from the fat moon whose silvery rays penetrated the gloom. Everything looked distorted in the ghostly light, demons reaching out to seize him. The end of the path was swallowed by the darkness.

Thoroughly unnerved Remus dashed down the path, feet producing too much noise for his liking. Then the stillness of the night was broken by a long rising cry, which pierced the air as an arrow from a bow. Coming to a shuddering halt Remus peered about fearfully – what creature had made that noise?

To his straining ears a steady growling became apparent, intensifying in volume until it seemed to be emanating from behind the bush nearest to him. Frozen Remus stared in the direction of the fearsome sounds, eyes glued helplessly to the grey spot.

The leaves shook as if some great beast was pushing its way thorough the resisting branches. Then, in the pool of moonlight, Remus Lupin saw what was causing the racket and his blood congealed in his veins.

The creature wasn't big it was _gigantic_. A long pointed snout sniffed the air, as if it was _scenting_ him. A massive body sleek and long tapered to a bushy tail. Powerful muscles could be seen rippling under the furry coat. Athletic legs cumulated in huge paws decorated with razor sharp claws.

It was impossible to define the colour of the fur in the grey background, but Remus Lupin knew at what he was gazing. A werewolf. The burning golden eyes focused on him confirmed that fact, an all too human gleam to the glowing pools.

A mouth opened displaying long pristine white teeth, coated with saliva, the werewolf using a pink tongue to lick his chops. Then the yellow eyes met his brown and Remus Lupin was terrified at what he saw in them.

Out of the pits shone malice so strong it tore the very oxygen from his lungs. This being meant to kill him he was sure. Understanding he couldn't reach the tortured human within Remus Lupin crouched down, picking up some of the loose stones.

Under the watchful gaze of the werewolf he rose slowly. At the last possible minute he flung his dusty package, shooting away into the dreadful night, unheeding of the furious screams.

Even the most courageous man will run when he knows the Devil's minion is aboard and he is its prey. Remus Lupin fled into the night, racing away from the monster, which howled in delight at the pursuit.

The hunt had begun.

0-0-0-0

Jonathon skidded to a halt as the wavering howls of the beast filled the night air. The terrible cries could surely only come from a demon and not some animal of Earth?

Shaking off the intruding consideration Jonathon changed direction, heading to where the nerve-jangling bellows originated.

0-0-0-0

Remus ran blindly, chest screaming in torment at each breath he took, the air blades to his weary lungs. Leaves slapped him on the face as he pushed past the overhanging braches, cuts flowing freely. Feet became entangled in roots and dead litter. The darkness was complete.

Behind him Remus could hear the thundering destruction of the beast, its howls and grunts rising in volume as it gained. Sobbing in abject terror he stumbled on, begging silently for mercy, for someone to come and save him.

No one answered his pleas. Instead he burst through the next set of bruising trees to emerge on a road devoid of life. Brilliant moonlight highlighted the blackness.

Slowing as his legs began to give way to the utter exhaustion and despair he felt Remus staggered down the concrete surface aware that he could go no further, that the beast would easily catch him in the open – and the worst thing? He could not risk going back to the wood, as he knew not from which direction the werewolf would appear.

Weakly he came to a halt, slumping to the ground, barely able to breathe. Twisting around he was in time to witness the hulking form of the man-wolf loom over him.

It had been on his heels all along. It had been playing with him as a cat does with its captured prey.

Remus closed his eyes against the rising tears as he realised that there had never been a chance of escape.

Hot air blew over him as the tearing teeth engulfed his shoulder. Molten white pain shot up to his head and he screamed at the torture.

Then… suddenly… a bang ripped apart the night.

Shouting drifted through the fog of pain. The iron jaws released their deadly grip. Gentle hands were touching him.

Overcome by his agonising ordeal Remus welcomed the abyss.

0-0-0-0

A room of blinding white edged with even whiter sheets – an incandescent glow that gradually faded to a more tolerable brightness.

Remus stirred weakly, the blurry lines beside his bed resolving into sharp focus. An exhausted smile tugged at the white lips, for there on the table stand stood a vase of beautiful flowers, the mixed blues, whites and yellows blending to form a wave of heart-lifting colour. His favourite flowers, each stem a study in perfection, three different species of Lupin. He wondered what was the celebration.

Feebly turning his head he gasped at the stab of pain, which flashed, fiercely up his left shoulder, travelling up the left side of his neck. His movement and subsequent cry had alerted the sleeping figure by the stark bed that now awoke, releasing a joyful sob when they found him conscious.

"Oh, John!" cried the woman in low tones, "he is awake!"

There was the sound of hurried footsteps then his father loomed into view, a healer beside him. They both wore serious expressions tinged with sadness. Dread coiled in Remus' belly and he struggled to speak – struggled to remember.

Strong hands raised his head, pulling him upwards, arranging pillows so he could sit up with aid. A cool glass of clear water was pressed to his mouth and Remus drank, suddenly terribly thirsty. Finished he slumped back, muscles weak as putty, head straining to answer the increasingly worrisome question: _why_ was he in hospital and why did the three faces staring at him look so grim and fearful? Remus had the sinking suspicion that the two were connected.

"Do you remember what happened?" asked his father in low gravely tones.

Remus closed his eyes as the gentle voice encouraged his memories of the recent past to surface.

_Darkness with only the round moon granting any illumination. The blood freezing howls echoing all around, sounding as if they came straight from hell. Then the low, menacing growls – a massive, slinking shadow drawing nearer. Then…then bright yellow eyes of pure evil gleaming in the sliver-white light. Lips drawn back over long, sharp white fangs dripping with saliva. Excruciating pain, a shout, and then utter blackness._

Opening brown orbs full of tears Remus stared up into the questioning faces.

"I'm…I'm…I'm a werewolf aren't I?" he whispered in horror and not a little denial. Pleading eyes begged his parents to tell him that the awful truth was in actual fact a lie. The grief stricken features told him otherwise. Feeling a build up in his chest of clashing emotions Remus shrank back on the pillows, small face grey with knowledge.

His uncle appeared at his father's left shoulder face drawn with remorse. Blue eyes met his and the amount of anguish and self-recrimination in the once lively eyes staggered Remus.

"I am so very sorry Remus," he whispered, "I am so very sorry that I didn't reach you I time. I – I was too slow. Forgive me." He broke down crying in terrible misery.

Appalled at the change in the once strong man Remus blurted,

"There was nothing you could do surely Uncle? Why blame yourself?"

A bitter smile.

"I was meant to protect you nephew – instead I not only allow you to get bitten but permit that monster to escape. What is the point of winning gun man of the year when I can't even shoot my intended target _dead_?"

Jonathon turned to leave, broken with guilt. Remus cried after the retreating man,

"Uncle Johnny! Please… you'll come back? I need you… Please don't go, don't abandon me when I need you most."

Squeezing his eyes shut Jonathon gasped past his tears, "I'll return, but now I have matters to attend to Remus. Bye."

"Bye," replied Remus in a small voice.

Remus stared after his uncle until he disappeared from sight, shifting his gaze then to his father who also looked contrite.

"I'm sorry son," rasped his father. "I'm so very sorry. It is all my fault."

Remus could not understand for the life of him why his father should assume responsibility for this tragedy. It was not as if he had _told_ the werewolf to bite him! Bewildered he watched as his father turned inquisitive eyes on the healer, hope and desperation intermingled in his voice as he asked – pleaded, "Is there nothing you can do? Nothing to lessen the pain of transformation?"

The healer gazed steadily at John, sorrow evident even as she answered.

"There is nothing that modern medicine can do Mr. Lupin. Werewolves are very much on their own. I am sorry."

His mother's sobs increased in volume, her song of despair filling the ward. Remus struggled to come to terms with the brutal cold truth of his predicament. Feeling tears well up in his eyes he quickly gazed out of the window, fighting to keep his demeanour.

An hour passed and the healer simply waited, allowing the family to regain some sense of control as they adjusted to the terrible, life-shattering news. At last Remus closed his eyes, at peace with his condition, accepting that further denial or fear of the facts would not benefit anyone – especially his well being – in the long run.

He fixed glassy eyes on the watchful healer, a tint of wolf gold already blending into the beautiful brown, as if he could change her words by will alone.

The healer observed the wrought features of the boy, which reflected the woe of his parents, yet which held a serenity that neither of his parents could attempt to master at the moment. When he beckoned her she answered. Once bending down he breathed, his voice barely reaching her ears, "Am I a danger to my parents?"

She had to answer him, even if her words caused him distress.

"Yes, especially tonight. It is the last night of full moon so we must all be careful."

He nodded then moved his head so that his lips brushed her cheek.

"Show me."

The words held strength in them that she was astonished to hear. How could he be so strong so soon after such a dreadful event? Shocked at his valour she fetched a mirror, tenderly removing the bandages so that he could see the reflection of his injuries. Remus never flinched; instead an almost severe expression flowed onto the grey face, brown-gold eyes seizing hers with their indomitable spirit.

Steadily, as if his words were coming from far away, he addressed his weeping parents and guilt-ridden father.

"Mum, dad?" John and Mary glanced up at their son who seemed to be floating in another world.

"You must go soon. The moon shall be up soon-" a peek out of the window confirmed this statement, "-and I don't want you to witness my transformation."

"But son!" protested his father.

Remus cut him off. "No, daddy. I am scared, but I have to do this alone – I, I couldn't bear it if I knew you were both watching lost in pain and fear. Please, daddy, take mum home. I'll be fine. Tomorrow is another day and we can talk then."

The healer closed her eyes. How could such a lovely, brave boy be bitten?

A silent agreement reached the parents got up, bidding their son goodbye with tearful farewells, entrusting their son's care to her.

Golden eyes met hers, canines rapidly becoming fangs, hair lengthening. A mouth bristling with teeth opened to reveal a very pink tongue.

"Get me away from herrre," came the growl. "I can't hold on for much longerrrr…"

Alarmed at the speed of the transformation Sally Green hastened to the boy, scooping the child up into her protective arms. Within moments they had the boy secured in a padded room, curled up on himself.

0-0-0-0

Inside the dull room Remus dug his nails cum claws into the soft material as the change swept his body.

Very soon the screams began.


End file.
